My Vampire Heart
by Honeeym
Summary: "According to you, I did this with the sole purpose of getting Liz to support me?" - "Yes," she says firmly, almost encouraging him to contradict her. -Two-part OS based on the Klaroline scene from 311.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N : I fell in love with Klaroline the minute he walked into her bedroom. I simply could not resist writing a lil' something about those two. The chronology of the canon isn't taken into account. Forgive me if Klaus is slightly OOC; it's my first time writing about him. P__lease review, you know I love your reviews ;)_

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><p><strong><em>My Vampire Heart (12)_**

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><p><em>Just a little change, small to say the least.<em>

_Both a little scared, neither one prepared._

_- Beauty and the Beast -_

"_Are you going to kill me?" she asked in a feeble voice._

"_On your _birthday_?" he said, profoundly outraged. "Do you really think that low of me?"_

_Her opinion of him mattered little, but to think that he disregarded even the celebration of one's life – rather, afterlife, in this case – truly offended him. Caroline would have snorted if her entire body wasn't consumed by pain. She endeavored to infuse as much venom as she could in her "Yes"._

_He took a step towards her, his face impassive. He was the villain in her book, the tempest in what used to be a quiet little town. He was the epitome of everything she certainly despised, and the reason why she was in this predicament. Of course, she thought that low of him._

_When he extended his hand towards her, Caroline gasped and closed her eyes. Her feverish mind whispered to her that it'd be a pity if the last person she ever spoke to was Klaus. Relief took over for a second when he simply pulled the sheet away from her left shoulder. The direct contact between the wound and the seemingly freezing atmosphere of her room only heightened the pain. _

_He let out a sigh._

"_That looks bad," he noted; his voice was laced with something close to – was it regret she heard? Could it be that _the_ Lord Niklaus, the self-absorbed, destructive Hybrid, was genuinely apologetic? She didn't let it get to her, though, and the response that formed in her mind would have translated into "Yeah, right, you son of a bitch"._

"_My apologies," he continued. "It was known as collateral damage, it's nothing personal."_

_She glared up at him, and he thought about the meaning of his words. He did ask her boyfriend to bite her purposefully, with the afterthought of saving her to ingratiate the sheriff, her mother. Seemingly as personal as it gets. The thought of Tyler made his eyes fix on the charmbracelet she was wearing; it was a nice piece of jewelry, but nice did not quite cut it with Caroline Forbes. She deserved to be offered grand, noble jewelry to go along with her delicate cream skin. Especially on such a day._

"_I love birthdays," he said simply._

_She snorted, this time. Was he actually making small talk when she felt like the world was spinning and she was hotter and colder than she had ever been? "Yeah," was all she could come up with at first, but she wasn't quite satisfied. She could do better. "Aren't you, like, a billion or something?"_

_Okay, so that was pathetic. In her defense, she wasn't exactly at her best; the sparring match would have to be postponed. However, amusement spread over his face. He'd always known that this little blonde was fiery, and it came as no surprise that she should hold on to this quality even in agony. _

"_You have to adjust your perception of time when you become a vampire, Caroline," he said softly._

_It was the first time he had used her name, and his thick accent made it sound like an exotic word to her own ears. Wait, was dementia starting already? There was no other explanation to account for her thinking something positive about Klaus, of all beings walking this planet._

"_Celebrate the fact that you're no longer bound to trivial human conventions."_

_She looked down a bit. Those trivial human conventions, like he so scornfully called them, were everything she had always longed for, everything she thought she needed. But he was right; she no longer belonged to the world of humans – she had even had a proper funeral to make it official._

"_You're free," he said and she thought she heard something like envy in his voice._

Aren't you_, she wanted to ask. What could possibly restrain him from doing anything? As for her, well, her age counter had ceased to go up, she was bullet-proof; for a moment, she had held the foolish belief that she was free. Free of a human's worst enemy: time. Foolish belief, indeed. A so-called immortal had other enemies, deadlier than time._

"_No," she countered lazily. "I'm dying."_

_He sat on the bed with a gentleness she didn't think he was capable of. The weight of his body made the sprung mattress creak and the sound deafened her. _

"_And I could let you," he said. "Die. If that's what you want."_

_She once again noticed the way his accent made everything sound different. Almost as if the word "die", in his mouth, had a different meaning, one that was completely unrelated to the actual, terrifying concept of the end of a life. _

"_If you really believe your existence has no meaning," he pursued in a deep whisper._

_She was thankful that he kept his voice low, because her ears just happened to be extremely sensitive, but the shivers down her spine every time he started a new sentence were making her terribly uncomfortable. The minute part of her that remained rational knew the fever was responsible for the chills; the rest of her, however, blamed them on his presence here, so close to her._

_She felt exhausted, and angry at Tyler, and panicked that today would, after all, be her funeral in reality. _

"_I thought about it myself, once or twice, over the centuries, truth be told."_

_She set aside the pain and paid close attention to him. Something that she would have identified as tears were forming in his eyes, but he was Klaus. He was as far from human as it got and it simply did not make sense that he was even physically able to cry. This acknowledgment in itself was an abomination of nature. Such a monster could not feel, could he?_

_He got closer, and she frowned, unable to move or to think or to speak. _

"_But I'll let you in on a little secret," he said, lowering his voice even further. "There's a whole _world_ out there waiting for you. Great cities and art, and music."_

_He fingered her bracelet again, but the gesture went unnoticed on her side. Was he trying to talk her into living? If so, why?_

"_Genuine beauty," he concluded, his voice vibrant with passion. "And you can have all of it," he said._

_Her eyes vibrated with a tic. She was doing her very best to hold back the tears as memories rushed through her. _

"_You can have a thousand more birthdays," he remarked. "All you have to do is ask."_

_She used to have plans for the future, yes. She wanted to visit so many places – Paris, Jakarta, Johannesburg, Tokyo. She used to believe that she'd travel the world and eat weird stuff and go to music festivals during the summer – that's the Caroline he was talking to, and that's the Caroline who was struggling to accept whatever help he was visibly here to offer._

_There would be a price to pay for this. She wasn't delusional enough to ignore it. But what good would it do if she refused him and died? _

_She couldn't bring herself to literally ask for his help, so she settled for "I don't wanna die", which was nothing but the naked truth. She didn't want to die; she didn't want his help either, but that was another matter entirely. Psycho bastard or not, his blood was literally the blessed elixir of life, so she'd take it and pay the price for it later. _

_The shadow of a smile passed across his face, although his features didn't move. He seemed satisfied of her choice. He rolled up his sleeve and brought his left hand under her head. He lifted her up with uncharacteristic precaution and brought his forearm to her lips._

"_There you go, sweetheart," he breathed. "Have at it."_

_She hesitated for one second, and bit into his wrist as he rested his chin on the top of her head. _

"_Happy birthday, Caroline."_

_The recovery was not immediate. The Hybrid settled for sticking around long enough to see the light regain her topaz eyes. She was still too weak to protest, and so, after he carefully set her head back onto her pillow, he contentedly sat there, letting the mask down for a while, taking a breath from the schemes and the ulterior motives for the first time in longer than he could recall._

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><p>When Caroline's eyes open the next day, her mouth feels all furry and her lips are swollen. She refuses to face the sunrays just yet, although she can feel them peering through the curtains of her bedroom. The events from the night before are quite foggy to say the least, and she hates to start her day with a befuddled mind. And suddenly, she remembers. Her birthday turned into a funeral. Tyler and his confession of love. The lethal bite he inflicted on her. The burning pain, the chills, the dementia. And … in the middle of this, <em>Klaus. <em>Her savior.

No way in Hell.

She sits up and brings a hand to her neck, where the bite is still supposed to be. She already knows she won't find it, as she is feeling much better, but she refuses to believe that everything she thinks she remembers is more than a delusion.

Her hand meets smooth, unharmed skin. No more bite.

She heaves a sigh and wonders how she is going to deal with this. Her eyes fall on something she does not recognize. A velvet black box, with a white ribbon. _What is it? _She sets her teddy bear aside and reaches for it. _Who brought it? _She quickly gets her answer as she turns the small rectangle of paper.

_From Klaus._

She takes a sharp breath. So, he was here last night. She would be very curious as to how exactly he charmed his way into her house, but all she can think about is that he is free to come and go as he pleases, now. She has a feeling he will use that privilege more than she'd like.

After a moment's hesitation, she decides to open the box. What bad can it do? She'll obviously return whatever it is to the sender, but curiosity has always been her biggest fault.

A bracelet. Scratch that, a _beautiful_ bracelet. The kind of gift she has always dreamed of receiving for her eighteenth birthday. A piece of jewelry so elegant and mature that she'd wear it all the time, to convey the message to the world that she was now a woman. _How did he know? _She can't help herself, her sensitive fingertips brush against the jewels and her jaw drops – diamonds.

_What the Hell_?

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><p>She resembles an angel in every particular, from her silky blonde hair to the azure whirlpool of her eyes, and yet, her deepest nature is that of a demon. That alone should suffice to invalidate the Manichean vision of the world she used to believe in, good versus bad, but it does not. You must hate those who do you wrong, and cherish those who don't. Therefore, she must hate Tyler and cherish <em>him<em>, mustn't she? It's time to make a start and create her own set of beliefs, because this is simply impossible.

Once she has put the bracelet back into its place, she re-ties the ribbon and tucks the card where it was before, with its annoyingly aristocratic handwriting. Fuck him and his diamonds.

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><p>"Ah," he says appreciatively. "If it isn't the lovely Miss Forbes."<p>

He does wonder how she managed to get inside his _fortress _without attracting any attention from his hybrids, but then he remembers that Stefan has graciously obtained their complete removal from town. She taps her feet on the floor as a sign of her impatience. His discreet smile spreads; he was actually _hoping_ she would come to him, although the reason for that remains a mystery. Now that she is standing here, in all of her bright beauty, the rosy shade having regained her cheeks, he finds himself taken aback. Almost.

He is Klaus and he doesn't allow bubbly blondes to take him aback.

"How can I help you, love?" he says.

The answer to that question, he already knows. She has interrogations. But something tells him she will not ask just yet. He is curious to see which reason she'll invoke for invading his still unfurnished living-room.

"You owe me an explanation," she says, her voice a little less confidant than she probably wants.

"Do I, now?" he asks lightly. "I thought _you_ owed _me_ something."

When she doesn't answer immediately, he turns to retrieve the kettle and two cups from the kitchen and returns before she can blink, using his supernatural speed to stop just a few inches before her.

"Forgive the mess, I am still decorating," he says. "Cup of tea?"

He offers her his most polite smile, enjoying that his proximity is making her uncomfortable. He can read her like a book; she seems to be remembering that he is, by far, stronger than her. The faint glint of anxiety in her eyes tells him that she is second-guessing her decision to come interrogate him. He is used to inspiring fear in others, but hasn't he showed her that he could be the sweetest of men?

However, Caroline doesn't falter. She resists what must be the physical urge to take a step back and quickly gets the velvet box out of her purse. _Ah, _he thinks_, there comes the yelling. _

"What's this?" she asks, holding it under his nose.

His face brightens immediately.

"I'll take a wild guess and say it is a bracelet."

She opens her mouth, probably for some witty comeback, like when he said he was a billion-years-old, but she thinks twice and takes a deep breath to get a hold of herself. She walks to the closest table and sharply drops the box.

"I don't want it."

"Is it not your taste, love?" he inquires, closing the distance between them. "I was under the impression that diamonds are a girl's best friends," he said with something like a pout.

Once again, she stops herself from answering. His guess is that she would have gone for _"duh_" or something equally…teenager-like. She appears to lose composure by the second, and it bothers him. For some reason.

"I believe it is fashionable to offer presents on one's birthday," he says with a shrug. "It was your birthday, hence –"

"Yeah, well, thank you, but, no, thank you," she spits. "Don't want anything from you."

Klaus looks up to her with darkening eyes and she freezes instantly. Their conversation _stirred _something inside of him. Although "conversation" isn't the most apt word, since he did most of the talking. He is still in the process of understanding what possessed him to tell her all these things. The plan was only to rescue her, but when he got into that room and saw her looking so fragile, and resigned to die, he felt like a few comfort words wouldn't be too much. For the first time in his life, he changed his plans. _For her._ Anger is slowly rising; who does she think she is, speaking to him like he is one of her classmates?

"You were not quite as adamant last night, Caroline."

Her breath comes out shallow, and she finally falters. For the fraction of a second, he catches a glimpse of the girl who held on to him as he fed her the blood that saved her life. The memory of the moment they shared is obviously as shaking for him as it is for her. Yes, _shaking_. That should _not_ happen again – he won't allow it.

"I suppose your mother taught you how terribly uncivil it is to scorn a birthday present, sassy Caroline," he remarks.

"I don't want anything from you," she repeats stubbornly.

When he points out that he can take away what he has given if that's what she wants, she doesn't miss the double meaning. His anger subsides when her delicate hand retrieves the box and puts it back into her purse. For the first time since she got here, she doesn't avoid his eyes. At least three different shades of blue are shining there, and he wants to smile at her. He doesn't.

"That's more like it, love."

"I'm still not wearing it," she says as she walks out.

She leaves without asking the real question: _why did he save her? _It's gnawing at her.

"Giving you that bracelet is the only thing I've done in a long while that wasn't self-serving," he whispers before he can help himself.

If she hears him, she doesn't react to it. She will come back.

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><p>One of these days, after she gets out from the shower, she finds that Tyler's charmbracelet is missing. She is quite positive that she left it on her night table, but she can see only Klaus' velvet box, lying there, open. She sighs and settles for wearing the diamond bracelet, God knows why. Damn <em>him<em> for being able to come and go inside of her house.

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><p>Next time she hears about Klaus, Stefan is planning to dump the Originals into the oceans as retaliation for Klaus allowing some of his hybrids back into town. Damon, however, opts for a sneak attack, which she thought was the safest choice until one of Klaus' minions cornered her.<p>

She isn't trying to fight anymore; all strength has deserted her and Damon is way too busy dealing with three other attackers to register that she is about to get staked. She thinks about the last time she was about to die, and she faintly wonders what the Hell was the point of Klaus saving her if he was going to unleash his dogs on her.

The hybrid stops right in his tracks with a horrified look over his face. Caroline would use this to her advantage, but she's too intrigued to react. He has her, and Damon still hasn't ripped the heart out of his acolyte's chest, so why isn't he driving this stake through her heart? Not that she is keen on dying, but that seems like the only logical outcome of this predicament. She almost wants to ask him _just what the hell _he is waiting for.

"Are you – are you Caroline?" he whispers in a British accent that inevitably reminds her of Klaus'.

(She mentally slaps herself for that thought.)

She nods with a frown, a little too eager to discover the reason for this unexplainable behavior.

"What?"

"My apologies," he stammers. "Please excuse me."

Before she gets a chance to question him further, he drops the stake and flees as fast as his goddamned hybrid speed allows him. When Damon gets to her, she's still in the process of figuring out what just happened – or rather, didn't happen – so she doesn't really pay attention when he grabs her arm to help her stand.

"Ouch," he grumbles. "Your bracelet hurt me."

He rubs the inside of his wrist with a grimace, although the scratch is already gone. He doesn't miss the fact that her heart skips a beat or two. She gasps.

"What?" he all but growls.

The _bracelet._

"What?" he says again.

_I suppose your mother taught you how terribly uncivil it is to scorn a birthday present, sassy Caroline._

Caroline blinks rapidly and immediately regains composure, having become an expert in the art of pulling out a wonderful poker face. Given, it always comes with a pang of guilt, but this is Damon standing in front of her; he has probably told her more lies than truths. She gives him her most teasing single.

"Ouch, your bracelet hurt me," she mimics mockingly. "Stop being such a girl about it."

Luckily, he just rolls his eyes at her and starts walking. She sighs and falls into his step.

Sometimes, she'd love this sire bond thing to work for her and Damon; she wishes he could sense that she was lying so he would get angry and throw her into a dungeon so she would never be able to get near Klaus ever again.

Unfortunately, Damon isn't half the Sire to her that Klaus is to Tyler.

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><p>He didn't lie when he said offering her this bracelet had been his only unselfish action in decades.<p>

He has decided to protect her from all the crazy schemes, now. There is something utterly disturbing about the idea of her getting caught in this war Stefan has declared on him. Besides, he did bother to save her life once, and his actions never go to waste.

That's what he tells her when she comes asking for an explanation as to the odd attitude of his hybrid.

"Not to worry, love, the fool was severely reprimanded for his blunder," he greets her as she makes her way into the living-room.

"So, what? As long as I'm wearing this, nothing can happen to me?"

"You come to no harm at my hybrids' hands," he confirms simply.

She knows how to take a cue, and so she leaves, a little more confused than she was before. She still hasn't asked the real question, and as she gets back into her car, she wonders: _why did you save me?_

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><p>The first time he turns up uninvited, she finds him sitting on her bed, in the exact same spot where he sat that night. She is alone in the house, since her mother is never there when she needs her, and Bonnie and Elena are busy dealing with Stefan and the coffins, so she is very proud to say that she doesn't have a heart attack at the sight of this <em>murderer<em> casually manipulating her teddy bear like it's the most fascinating object in the world.

She inhales deeply, preparing herself to fling some scathing remark at him, but Klaus' head immediately turns in her direction, and for one second, her heart stops beating. The green of his eyes is so intense that it's a wonder she has never noticed it before. His eyes are wide, and he seems surprised to see her there. She almost expects him to vanish, like the bad dream he is to her.

But he does not move. She decides to be casual about this, in hopes that he'll be offended by her absence of interest in him and leave. A voice inside her head tells her she's kidding herself, but it's worth a try.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, inflicting misery or evil things of the like?" she says calmly.

He gives her one of those smirks she has seen so many times on Damon; she can't help but notice that it suits him all too well, just like it does Damon. _What is it with me and bad boys, anyway?_ When she remembers the way she used to feel about Damon, and realizes that she's just compared him to Klaus, she feels suddenly nauseous, and the sound of his deep voice isn't of any help at all.

"I have cleared my schedule for you, as you can see," he informs politely. "I figured it was time you and I had a little chat."

"What more do you want from me? I'm wearing your goddamned bracelet," she says through her teeth, holding her wrist up as proof.

"And it does look breathtaking on you, sweetheart," he said. "But in this case, _you_ want something from _me._"

"As if."

"Don't you wish to know why I saved you?"

His question silences her. She was not expecting that, at all. She was not expecting to find him in her bedroom waiting for her; not when all she wanted was a quiet evening all alone to deal with the mess of things with Tyler, and think about the advice she'd give Elena about this whole "I'm in love with both Salvatores" situation. But – does she wish to know why he saved her? Hell, yes. She's just not sure she is ready for the answer, yet.

"I can put two and two together, thank you very much," she snaps. "Tyler the _sired_ hybrid is no longer a slave of the moon, so you're in the Mayor's good books. She and my mom practically run this town, so – "

"Ah, yes," he concedes. "Liz' support is a truly valuable asset."

She cringes internally at him calling her mother by her first name, and faintly wonders if he's been paying visits to her, too. The answer frightens her so much that she doesn't ask, and she internally screams at the top of her lungs because there are _so_ many answers that she's afraid of, when it comes to him.

He shifts the weight of his body, gesturing for her to go to bed as she was visibly planning to, and she snorts, her pretty features distorted by outrage. Rebekah used to have this exact same reaction whenever he tried to boss her around, back in their long-lost human days; he would ask – rather, strongly suggest – her to do something, she'd ignore him and then he'd give her "the look". It always resulted in her pouting, folding her arms across her chest stubbornly, and … doing what she had been told.

And so he settles for giving Caroline "the look". Staying perfectly motionless, he simply looks up to her with an intensity that hits her unexpectedly; almost as if his eyes had the power to move the weight of her body and direct it to the bed. Almost as if his eyes were acting like a magnet on her, or setting her on fire. He doesn't miss that her heart rate goes up. It might be from the anger. The words _This is my room and I'll go to bed if I want to, when I fucking want to _are metaphorically written all over her face, but a smile surfaces at the corner of his lips when she falls over on the bed, all pouty and frowning.

There is something disturbing about the situation they are in; she, a baby vampire, being tucked in by one of the Originals. Although there is still a respectable distance between their two bodies, they are very well aware of the sparks flying, and the way they quickly glance when the other isn't looking.

Caroline brings the sheet up to her chin, although the gesture lets him know that he once again has the upper hand. Using this information to his advantage, he extends his arm and she watches as his fingers tentatively brush against her cheek. He's very careful and she's not even sure that there is an actual contact of skins, but she surely feels like there is. _More sparks._ Once he is positive that she won't snap his hand away, his palm comes to rest in the hollow of her neck, where Tyler bit her. She cringes a little at the memory and when she finally meets his eyes, what she sees there frightens her more than anything, as his thumb draws circles on her skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"What are you –," she starts.

"So," he interrupts weakly. "According to you, I did this with the sole purpose of getting Liz to support me?"

"Yes," she says firmly, almost encouraging him to contradict her.

"How wrong can you be, pretty Caroline," he says, shaking his head in disapproval. "How wrong, indeed."

Caroline averts her gaze. So, there _is_ another reason for her miraculous recovery. She can't say that she is surprised; there is something about the way this ancient one looks at her that makes her believe she has some sort of value in his eyes. The nature of that value, she is not quite prepared to acknowledge. And there is also this warm hand against her skin that's making it hard to focus.

"It's getting late," she says shortly. "I have school tomorrow."

Klaus pauses and the coldness of her voice makes him remove his hand from her neck. She folds her arms across her chest and stubbornly looks away from him, trying to conceal the tears of emotion forming in her eyes. He can smell them though, and he wonders just what he has said that moved her to this extent. Does she truly believe that she is completely worthless?

"Tomorrow's Friday," he whispers. "I may come by tomorrow, then."

She distinctly hears the question mark he didn't put at the end of his sentence. His persistant politeness is exasperating. It makes it seem like she has the power to keep him out, which she knows she doesn't.

"Surprise me," she snorts.

He laughs silently and elegantly hops off the bed.

"I absolutely _never_ back out of a challenge," he says. "You're in for a treat, Miss Forbes."

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><p>tbc ...<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N : I want to take a moment to thank everyone who's added this story to their favorites and story alerts. It means a lot. Thank you also for your reviews, I'm glad that you like "my" Klaus. I will certainly write more about these two in the future, when the show provides us with a little more raw material. __Here the story comes to an end... Please share any comment/criticism/suggestion for the future. __Love you all - M._

_PS : My next publication with be Daroline ;)_

_PSS: Decided to publish this very early to celebrate the fact that I will be meeting Joseph Morgan, alongisde Paul Wesley and Ian Somerhalder at a convention in May. Yay. YAY._

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><p><strong><em>My Vampire Heart (22)_**

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><p>For the next twenty-four hours, all she does is think about him, and be mad at herself for it.<p>

She doesn't know what game he is playing with her, but she won't let herself become a victim; so when he comes over the next day, she doesn't curl up in bed like a scared little girl. She offers him a glass of Bourbon and starts chatting cheerfully, burying the urge to ask him just _what the hell_ he wants with her. The attention he is dividing to her is bothering in the sense that he's never cared about her before, so why now?

He set his sights on Katherine, then on Bonnie, and finally, on Elena. It made sense. They were the Petrova doppelgangers and a powerful witch – they _mattered_. They had a very clear purpose in his grand scheme of things, and although she resents him for everything he has put her friends through, she has to admit that she's kinda grateful to him for making Katherine suffer a little.

The first time he surprises her is when he assures her that the _other_ reason why he saved her has nothing to do with scheming. He refuses to explain himself further, but there is honesty in his eyes. She willingly takes the risk to believe him, because the fact that she is here to even have doubts must mean something. He is Klaus and he is evil, but he has saved her life, and although it should _not_, it means something to her.

It means she owes him at least the benefit of the doubt. This concession alone fills her with guilt; she shouldn't feel like she owes anything to this man. But she does. She takes a secret vow not to hold his actions against Tyler in the future; this – this _gratitude_ she feels towards him is eating her up, and it's the only reason why she has not told anyone about the bracelet, or about the visits.

"Thank you," she says, catching him off guard. "For saving me."

She has been well-raised and she figures – she _hopes – _that thanking him will help her get this sick obsession out of her system. The moment the words come out of her mouth, she feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders, but it immediately comes back when he smiles quite fondly at her. She _hates _when he does that, and he does it quite often.

"You're very welcome, sweetheart."

What he doesn't tell her is that she is the first woman who has caught his eye in at least fifty years.

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><p>On the fourth night, just before jumping out her window to avoid Liz, he cups her face with his ridiculously sweet hands and leans in to drop a chaste, yet lingering kiss on her forehead. She stops breathing the second his lips come in contact with her skin, and later on, she wonders at how she managed to stand on her own two feet until he was gone.<p>

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><p>A semblance of emotion, a trace of feeling, something too remote to be named or labeled is growing inside of her like the most poisonous of flowers. She fears it might eat her organs up and leave her empty. The notion of what she should and should <em>not<em> feel becomes blurrier and blurrier every time she elicits a smile from his lips. He looks like an angel while he is pure evil, and the Manichean vision of the world she used to hold on to has lost its meaning.

In her defense, when they are together, he is nothing but a civil, witty gentleman. It is obvious that he is trying to make a good impression on her. The worst part is, it might be working.

They can never have an entire conversation without fighting. Caroline has always been terrible at walking on eggshells, so instead, she implements rules: no talking about her friends' plans get in his way, no talking about whatever his hybrids are up to, no talking about anything related to something that has happened since the night of the sacrifice.

The truth is, this is simply her sneaky way to get him to talk about his human days, and his first years as a vampire. _Great cities and art and music. _Of all the stories he tells her, those are her very favorites.

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><p>"Why do you tolerate my visits?" he asks on the tenth night. "I am honored that you do, but why?"<p>

Caroline pauses, unsure of whether she should answer truthfully. It actually never occurred to her that she was able to veto the late night visits. She tries to believe that she doesn't object against his presence because a) he's been invited in, b) he is in a position to make her _reconsider_ and c) while he is here with her, he is not out there causing devastation. And, erm, d) he is actually a very interesting person, to say the least. She can't reasonably tell him that. She is glad that they are sitting shoulder to shoulder, because she decides to be bold and deflect.

"Why did you save me?" she asks with the same tone.

He laughs. She is not ready yet.

"Touché, love."

* * *

><p>It only takes a spark to tear the world apart; a tiny little thing to make it all begin. She <em>is<em> the spark, and his world has been torn apart from the minute she allowed his hand to touch her. The purity of her heart reminds him of his little sister's and he gladly compensates Rebekah's absence with Caroline's bright smile.

Klaus is getting used to spending time with her. He is getting used to that cute laugh of hers, even if she's still cautious around him. He is getting used to her allowing him a little more physical intimacy every night. It started with his hand on her neck, but now, when he drops a goodnight kiss on her forehead, her hand squeezes his arm briefly.

The way he feels about her is something quite unfamiliar. He has read about it, and heard about it, but he never was foolish enough to give in to it. When he steps into her bedroom, he becomes a different person. It's like he can breathe again and his mind is free of all the constraints of always having to plot and plan and lie and hurt and kill. It's _relaxing. _

For some reason, time seems to be suspended inside that bedroom of hers, almost as if it were a grey zone. He is not Lord Niklaus anymore, or even Klaus. He is _Nik_; the nickname rolls off her tongue like a magic word that has the power to erase his past and his future, leaving only emerald colliding against sapphire.

* * *

><p>She wonders if she should talk to Damon about Klaus' late night visits. After all, they have become horribly regular. It's been a complete month; she always gets into the shower at 9:16pm and by 9:29pm, he is on the bed, waiting for her. He stays until midnight and never leaves without kissing her forehead gently.<p>

* * *

><p>When he doesn't show up one night, she starts speculating about a hypothetical sire bond. The precedent of supernatural beings ingesting his blood is not what she would call encouraging. His first hybrids bled out to the point of their deaths, but she doesn't have to look so far – Stefan and Tyler became, well, his <em>bitches<em>. There is always Damon, whose personality has not radically transformed after Klaus saved his life, but Damon is so unreliable that she won't risk basing a life-changing theory on his being the exception to the rule. What she truly speculates about is the answer to a central question: is she turning into Klaus' bitch? This is the only explanation for her being _disappointed_ about his absence, for her feeling _alone_ without him.

* * *

><p>She fears something might have happened to him, but Stefan and Damon would have staged a parade if they'd managed to take down the big bad wolf. Although he does not let her see him, she is quite positive that he is lurching; she gets a kick whenever she thinks she sees him watching her from the shadows at every turn. It's like his shadow accompanies her. Whenever her heart gets too heavy with guilt, or when she feels completely detached from her friends' conversations, she feels it. It could be the result of wishful thinking, or she could be imagining things, but she sees his broad-shouldered shadow on every wall, she sees his footprint on every floor. Like a light shining down on her, like the heat radiating off his body when they sit shoulder to shoulder, like the warmth of his lips on her forehead.<p>

She spends those evenings without him doing teenager stuff with Bonnie, Elena, and Matt. But she avoids Tyler. The fact that she worries about Klaus and fears a baby hybrid makes absolutely no sense, but the feeling doesn't bother her anymore. She has come to terms with the fact that she is not one of those people whose path is a straight line; she makes detours, she twists and turns. And she hopes, against all odds, that next time she turns, he will be there, waiting for her with one of his annoying smirks, and ask her "What took you so long, sweetheart?".

* * *

><p>"You're a distraction," he breathes accusingly. "That is truly inconvenient."<p>

She doesn't need to open her eyes to know it's him. There's been a shift in the air, and every hair on her body rose in a very distinctive manner. She exhales deeply, feeling conflicted. Her heart is beating in her ears. _He. Is. Back. _She remains motionless long enough to decide which side of her will prevail: the rational Caroline who's afraid and who wants to shove him away, or this wild, careless blonde who longs for his company?

He nudges her playfully; she groans and reaches out to turn on her bedside light. She'll be careless, just for a moment. Just long enough to see him smile once again. It is way past his habitual hour and she shushes him while she ties her messy hair in a loose bun. She sits up and doesn't bother to hide her semi-smile. He is alive, and he is well. More, he is handsome as ever and his eyes are glowing as he looks at her expectantly.

"You're a stalker," she says in that characteristically stubborn Caroline tone. "That is truly creepy."

He laughs. She hasn't lost her wits; the fact that she snaps at him means that she is not mad about the pause he imposed on their…interactions.

"Where have you been?" she asks inquisitively. "You just disappeared without a word."

She chooses to believe that they have grown close enough for this question to fall into the natural pattern of their conversations. She is wrong.

"Your behavior is that of a jealous _girlfriend_," he replies scornfully. "I do not need to explain myself."

(The scorn is here to conceal the excitement.)

"Well, then, I do not need to listen to your crap. You can leave," she says, her voice dry.

The reason for his next move continues to be a complete mystery.

His strong hand closes tightly around her throat, and she finds herself being yanked out of bed, thrown against the closest wall. He remains silent, although his lips open to form words. _Which words? _Her tiny hands attempt at weakening his grip, but he holds on tighter, causing her to groan in pain.

"Seriously?" she manages to say. "After everything, this is who you want to be?"

The disgust in her voice is painfully perceptible as she frowns at him, impatient. He wonders if she forgot that she is speaking to a moody, impulsive, fucking _invincible_ supernatural. The apprehension he used to see in her eyes has vanished, and it aggravates him that she thinks he has softened enough to disregard the very present threat he poses to her life. Actually, it aggravates him that _she is right_.

He lets go of her throat and she coughs a little. Taking a step back, he watches her get back into bed, determined to ignore him for the rest of his visit.

And then, simultaneously, he is shouting at her and she is shouting at him; both invoking irrelevant arguments (in what looks very much like a _couple_ fight) because it's the only way to express their frustration over their growing attachment. Their relationship is so terribly human that neither resort to their strength or speed to end the fight or run from it.

"You are _changing_ me," he yells; the walls of her bedroom tremble.

The words echo inside her head several times before she can understand them. She takes a step towards him and her hands delicately cup his face. He wants to break away, but her watery eyes hold him in place. He is shaking with steady tremor, and she can't tell whether it's anger or emotion. It's the first time she has initiated the physical contact and his jaw clenches at the tenderness of it. Could it be that she – no, he'll just ignore it.

This is precisely why he left; to sort out his _feelings _and determine whether he is truly starting to _care _about her. With her small hands framing his face, he knows that he is. And it is wrong. But then again, she has never looked at him like this before. There is something there, something that wasn't there last time. Some sort of glint, some sort of hope.

"No," she says softly. "I'm getting you back to who you used to be."

Before he was the bad, sad, evil Original slash Hybrid. He knows it, and she knows it.

"_You_ are changing _me_," she whispers.

He looks at her like she's out of her mind. She leans on his shoulders to tiptoe and give him a kiss on the forehead. He takes a sharp breath and curses her for making his heart banging against his ribcage.

That night, she falls asleep in his arms, and he fights against sleep to enjoy every minute of it.

* * *

><p>The secrecy is more than she can take; the excitement from the early days of <em>this<em> has turned into weariness. She is tired of making us excuses to ditch her evenings at the Grill, but what annoys her the most is missing the certainly breathtaking vision of the sun shining through his sandy blonde hair, brightening his eyes and making them shine like a thousand emeralds.

"I want to see you in daylight," she says before she can help herself.

"You're the one insisting on the secrecy. I am far too old to be bothered with the opinion of others."

"So – you don't care what I think?"

He gives her one of his fond smiles.

"You are _not_ just anyone," he whispers, loud enough for her to hear.

By now, she has accepted that she is disrespecting every single value her parents have tried to pass on to her; she has accepted that she is the worst friend in the whole wide world, and that if there is such a thing as Hell, the Devil must have already booked a front seat for her. So she allows herself to smile softly. _She is not just anyone to him._

"You are my friend," he says.

The best description of a reality is not always achievable through existing words, and thus, labeling their relationship would be a mistake. _Friend _is a severe understatement for what she means to him. He simply wants to evaluate her reaction; and he has to literally bite the inside of his cheeks to remain impassive when her face falls, betraying the internal turmoil this simple word has awoken.

A _friend, _she thinks bitterly. Probably a mere replacement for his sassy little sister.

"Yes. Your friend."

Klaus thoroughly enjoys her obvious distaste for his definition of their relationship.

* * *

><p>When he is gone that night, she cries. He calls her a friend when it's obvious that her own feelings are much deeper than that. She is disgusted, and resigned, and angry.<p>

* * *

><p>"I'll be sad when you die," she whispers.<p>

They are sitting in silence in what he has the nerve to call a living-room. The change of scenery is nice, but Caroline can't fight the despair – she thought the tension between them had something to do with her bedroom. It was, after all, the place where their connection had started, and she decided to surprise him tonight, by coming to his place instead, hoping to find that the magic was gone. Well, it is _not_.

"You do know they _will_ kill you, right?"

He shrugs. Dying matters little to him, now. Of course, he will defend himself until he's run out of options, but what more can he expect from life? He has lived a thousand years, visited every great city in the world, learnt every beautiful language and read the best books. He has loved and hated, won and lost. The only thing that remains unknown to him is the passion that only a woman can ignite. And even that, he thinks he has at least approached.

"Sad, you say?" he asks.

She nods.

"I'll miss this."

He smiles from the corner of his lips as she lets her head rest on his shoulder.

* * *

><p>They have so much in common that it's spooky. The Daddy issues, the pathological need of approval, the fact that they became vampires against their will. Everything that has shaped their personalities.<p>

She is delaying the inevitable. By now, it has become crystal clear to both of them that a force very similar to gravity is pushing them towards each other; it simply does not make sense to fight gravity, but she is delaying the moment when all of these thoughts, all of these dreams she has, will take shape. She delays because as long as his painfully tempting lips have not brushed against hers, other outcomes are still possible.

She can still pretend that she is getting close to him only with the purpose of finding his weakness – if there is one – or simply because she doesn't have a choice. She can pretend that being his "friend" is payment for him saving her life. However, as time goes by, it is getting harder to pretend that she's indifferent to everything that makes him _Nik_. Also, the kiss on the forehead has been replaced by a kiss on the cheek (he is slowly getting there), although her psyche often converts it into a full-on kiss on the lips.

She is standing on the edge of a precipice here, but the choice is still hers. Klaus has made sure of that; he has been chivalrous enough not to put any sort of pressure on her. She is grateful at times, but at others, she'd rather he simply took matters into his own hands like he usually did when he ran out of patience. Taking their relationship of sorts to the next level is too heavy a responsibility for her confused heart and mind. Especially when all of her friends are actively looking for a way to end him. If they had the slightest idea of the way she thought about him, of how they touched, they would end her as well.

* * *

><p>Tonight is different. There is longing in every word he says, in the way her name rolls off his tongue, in each of his seemingly chaste touches. And she has had <em>enough<em> of this.

"Why did you save me?" she says bluntly. "I want to know. Now."

Another thing they have in common: their unpredictability.

Klaus' heart skips a beat, and she congratulates herself; that's an achievement in itself, because, even though _this_ has been going on for two months, he has always been the one in control. Well, tonight, it ends. Tonight, she takes matters into her own hands; she shall have answers.

He is staring at her in a way that makes her self-conscious, but she doesn't look away. Not tonight. She knows that the moment has come. Their hearts will start pounding, their mouths will get dry. It will get harder to breathe and her head will start spinning … But not before he tells her, once and for all. Not before he admits that she is _not _imagining what's going on between the two of them.

Klaus wonders if this is the cue he has been waiting for. That question has always been a no-no with her, but she is ready, finally. Ready to hear it, accept it and (maybe) act on it. He takes a step closer to her and internally smiles at the stubborn look on her pretty face and thanks Mother Nature for being the only invincible being on the planet. She would beat the hell out of him if she could; beat him until he gave an answer. But she can't, so she resorts to more _efficient_ techniques, the temptress.

His arms enclose her in a tight embrace, and she doesn't struggle against it. His forehead comes to rest against hers in an attempt to regain control of himself, because in half a second, when he finally gives in to temptation, everything will change. It makes no sense at this point to consider backing out, but he does, because is he ready for what is coming?

The moment she looks up to him, he completely forgets about the question and its answer altogether. His eyes are focused on her pretty pink lips that have been torturing him for two months, now. He is running out of patience; truly. And he is Klaus, so it's high time he took what he wants, and the Hell with chivalry. She would not be standing here if she didn't want it. Right?

Like every other girl who has had the pleasure of standing so close to him, Caroline admires his good looks, but mostly, the aura of animal magnetism that's radiating off of him. His pale skin and his sparkling green eyes, the few freckles across his nose and his sandy blonde hair are literally to die for. Standing this close to him, she sees a fire burning inside of his eyes and she becomes painfully conscious of his warm breath tickling her lips. She lets her gaze slip lower, to the rest of his body that she can only imagine, underneath the elegant clothing.

When she looks into his eyes again, his expression is so intense that it's threatening; for a moment, she faintly wonders if he's angry at her for triggering this situation. But she has not triggered anything; this situation is the inevitable consequence of the past two months, rather than a conscious choice on her part. His hot breath on her lips is driving her on the brink of insanity; she has never _wanted_ something so much.

He yanks her to him all of a sudden. She narrows her eyes at him for the brutality of his gesture, but doesn't complain. She even allows a gentle, lingering touch of the lips, but then she stops him, eliciting a low groan of frustration from deep in his throat. She bits back a giggle. He leans into the touch when her palms caress his face, deliberately, slowly.

"Why did you save me, Nik?" she whispers, almost into his mouth.

_Damn her stubbornness. _

"I hoped – against hope," he breathes softly. "That we could come to this."

Caroline freezes in his arms the second the words escape his lips, and he wonders if he should try to find a witch who can send them back in time, before he said that. He wonders if he's just ruined it all; if she'll push him away and run, like he has been expecting her to. If she'll realize that she's too good for him.

But instead, a dreamy smile spreads across her face, and he considers starting a prayer to thank the Gods. The answer seems to satisfy her, and next time he leans in, she responds immediately. Their lips lock and then … everything changes.

He can hear the cars driving by, he can sense the blows of the wind outside; but none of this is real. In this precise moment of perfect stillness, lips against lips, the word "real" encompasses solely Caroline Forbes. Her mouth is so warm, the caress of her lips softer than he could have imagined. He savors her taste, and she opens her mouth with a soft moan.

Good Lord, they are _kissing. _

Soon enough, she rests her forehead against his, her hands almost clawing at his face. She is shaking; he is shaking. Both experience such an earth-shattering feeling for the first time: warm and yielding body, intoxication from the other's smell, tingles down their spine at the intimacy of their touch. The promise of what is to come leaves them light-headed.

Klaus – Nik – marvels at how delusional it was of him to ever have believed that power derived from strength and immortality. He now understands that love is a power different from anything else, and can ruin one's notion of right and wrong, but also, of what is real and what is not. Being an Original vampire and a hybrid is nothing in the face of a kiss from Caroline Forbes. She has more power over him than a thousand witches – dead or alive. He will be reminded every time one of her secret smiles whispers into his long-dead heart.

**Fin.**


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